Harry Potter and the Wyld Hunt
by Coyote Laughs
Summary: During the summer after the DoM, Luna will help Harry deal with a suicide attempt, and the aftermath of it.  In the meantime, the forces of Dark will try to awaken a force that will cleanse Britain of all muggles.  After OoTP, non-HBP/DH compliant.
1. Tired

**Disclaimer: **I'm just merely playing with these characters. This takes place after OoTP, and is non-compliant with HBP or DH.

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><p><strong>Harry Potter and the Wyld Hunt<strong>

Chapter One : Tired

Harry Potter was tired.

Not physically tired, because that would have been easy to deal with. A few pepper-up potions and some bed rest, and he would have been as good as new. He was mentally tired. Emotionally drained. And maybe to the point of being done with his so called life.

Let's look at all the negatives he had in life.

He had a diabolically powerful arch-enemy in one Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort. He had a school headmaster that had been keeping him in the dark about who knows how many things. He had a society of witches and warlocks that was definitely bipolar in how they viewed him, all dependent on the day of the week and which way the wind was blowing. His school mates were no better, alternating praising and condemning him. He had no loving parents, nor grandparents. And to top it off, he had caused the death of his godfather, Sirius Black.

So what positive things did he have?

He had a loyal and beautiful snow owl. He had a mere handful of friends that would back him up in a tight situation, though his two best friends were somewhat suspect because they tended to toe the party line. He had... ummm... he had his broom.

'Bugger.'

Yep, it was official. Harry Potter was officially and truly knackered.

The slight euphoria he had at King's Cross station fled quickly in the presence of his three sullen relatives. The long ride back to Little Whinging and the subsequent weeks had proven to Harry that nothing had really changed. Though Vernon hadn't done anything, there was still that 'yet' that begged to be put at the end of that sentence. So he had started to block his door with his chest of drawers at night. Just in case. And once again, Harry was a prisoner in #4 Privet Drive.

If Harry had been a drinking man, and had been old enough to drink, a glass or two of scotch would have been in order. But instead, he just stared at the ceiling. Blankly. For hours. For him, time seem to stretch out into very large time increments, seconds turning into hours, hours turning into weeks.

He scratched his nose and thought. He was no hero. No knight in shining armour, bravely sweeping in to rescue the damsel in distress. There was no skill in anything he had done. It had all been blind luck. Quirrel, luck. The basilisk and Tom Riddle, luck. Buckbeak et all, luck. The Tri-Wizard tournament, luck. Department of Mystery, definitely luck.

'So bugger it all.'

Harry closed his eyes. It was all about control. Fudge controlled the wizard population by judicious use of the Daily Prophet, trickling out tid bits of information when he wanted. Voldemort controlled the war by controlling the tempo of the conflict, where to strike, when to strike, and when to lay low. And Dumbledore, well, he just controlled nearly everything else, particularly anything to do with one Harry James Potter.

'Well bugger it all to hell.'

Ultimately, Harry knew one thing that he could control. His death. Specifically the time, the place, and the how of his own death.

'Well, no time like the present, as they would say.'

Fumbling for his glasses from his night stand, he put them on and looked around the room. 'Nothing really to say to anybody, so no point in writing a note,' he thought bitterly to himself. Taking care to minimize the noise, he broke a potion flask that he had retrieved from his travel chest.

A sense of calm seemed to enveloped Harry. He felt that he was finally doing something, even though that something would prove to be the last thing he ever did. He sat on the floor, leaning against his bed. Softly, he called Hedwig over to him. She flew silently to him, landing on his leg. Large, seemingly sad eyes peered back into Harry's jade green eyes.

Sighing softly, he placed his forehead against Hedwig's head. "I'm sorry girl, but I won't be able to take care of you anymore." He choked up a bit and whispered, "you're to be free, just like I'll be free..."

He shooed Hedwig back to her perch. Grasping the largest shard in his right hand, he slashed a deep gash across his left wrist. The same was done to his right wrist immediately. Watching the blood slowly seep from his wrists, he idly wondered how long it would take before he went unconscious and then how long after that would he finally be rid of this life.

Time ceased to have any meaning to Harry. A smile crept onto his face as he looked around his room for the last time. But his last sight, before his consciousness slipped away, was the full moon, shining radiantly down into his small room and bathing him gently in her soft light.

But alas, Fate was not so willing to give up her favourite pawn yet.

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><p>Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think in a review, it would be much appreciated.<p> 


	2. Aftermath

**Disclaimer - **See previous chapter.

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><p>Chapter Two : Aftermath<p>

Luna Lovegood ran.

She ran quickly through the underbrush of the forests, trying desperately to get back to her house. She wasn't running for her life, but she was running for a life. Specifically one Harry Potter's. There was a feeling in her bones that something was wrong. And so she ran.

If she could get to the Floo, she could get somebody to check on him. The boy with the dark tousled hair that haunted her thoughts so frequently these days. Her need drove her past exhaustion. Thoughts flowed around her as she ran.

The day had started out normally. She had gotten up, made her bed, made breakfast for her and her dad, and then did her chores around the house. After supper, she left for a walk in the Lovegood forests, planning to pick several potion ingredients that only bloomed at night. A sudden rainstorm had caused her to seek shelter underneath a transfigured hut, where she promptly fell asleep to the soft pitter patter of the raindrops . But a sudden chill woke her, and she knew that something was wrong. And so she found herself running through the suddenly still forest at night, desperately hoping that her feeling was wrong, but knowing that these feelings were always right.

A root, appearing seemingly out of the night, appeared to grab her right foot, and she landed in the soft loam of the forests. A throbbing pain shot up through her ankle, and she gave out a cry of anguish, not for her, but for Harry Potter.

Fate looked down upon Luna, and sent her a gentle thought.

"Winky!" Luna cried out.

One 'pop' later, and a disheveled female house elf appeared in front of her. "Mistress Lovegood called for Winky?"

"Winky, please get Dobby to check on Harry Potter. Please?" Tears fell from Luna's face.

Seeing Luna's distraught face, Winky quickly nodded and 'popped' out, immediately seeking out Dobby amongst the house elves of Hogwarts. "Dobby, Dobby, Mistress Lovegood wishes you to find Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter? What's wrong with Harry Potter?" Winky shrugged her shoulders. "Dobby will go find Harry Potter!" Dobby immediately disappeared from Hogwards and appeared in Harry's room at #4 Privet Drive. Upon entering the room, Dobby spoke, "Harry Potter, sir? Dobby has come to find you, for Luna Love..." He finally saw Harry's unconscious body laying on the floor. "Oh Harry Potter sir. What have you done?" Grabbing Harry's body, he 'popped' out, leaving a pool of blood to dry in a silent moonlit room.

O o O

Elsewhere, Harry's rash action had not gone unnoticed. The many devices littering Headmaster Dumbledore's office began to whirl and whine, as they detected that Harry's life sign and presence at #4 Privet Drive were diminishing.

More importantly, in a moonlit glen deep in the Forbidden Forest, a thestral foal was being born. The birthing was anything but normal. This particular foal decided to come out early, so it was a little smaller than its other brothers and sisters. But the thing that really set the herd astir was its colour. Pale white skin clashed with the deep black of the rest of the herd. Pink eyes took in its surroundings. And if one looked quite closely, a scar, almost in the shape of a lightning bolt, could be faintly seen above the foal's right eye.

O o O

Heather Ross, mediwitch-in-training, was bored. The night shift at St Mungo's was not the most exciting place to be in England, but one had to pay one's dues. She picked at her lime green robes as she made her rounds on the first floor of the hospital. A deep gong reverberated along the halls, announcing that somebody had apparated into the lobby. Walking quickly back to the lobby, she spied a house elf gently cradling a body. "Please," the house elf cried as he spied Heather entering the lobby. "Please, please m'am, help Harry Potter sir..."

Heather stood shocked still, seeing the Boy-who-lived bleeding out in her lobby, before all her training took over and she began the long tedious fight to save quite possibly the only hope for the wizarding world.

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><p>Thanks for reading. Let me know what I'm doing wrong (or right) in a review.<p> 


	3. Beginnings

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter One

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><p>Chapter Three: Beginnings<p>

Harry Potter ran.

Looking behind him, he could barely make out their indistinct shapes. Shadows clung to them, while an air of menace exuded from their very forms. He ran through crowds, but still, the shapes came after him, though not before decimating said crowds with razor sharp claws and wicked teeth. He ran through dark, dense forests, where not an animal stirred. Yet still, he sensed them behind him. And as he ran, he heard them howl, an ancient haunting howl, a howl longing for blood. Coming to a cliff, he stopped and turned around, preparing to run again. But they were there, in a half circle, watching him. He stared back at them, ancient predators ready to pounce, before making a decision. Backing up to the edge of the cliff, he smiled at them. His blood was his own, and he would die of his own choosing. He looked up into the sky one last time, seeing the full glorious moon shining upon him. He dropped off the cliff, his eyes closed, falling and falling...

Harry woke up with a start. The over-whelming smell of disinfectant washed over him. _Hospital wing_, his brain screamed at him. But no, there were differences. The ceiling tiles were a different colour, and there were too many of them.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter. My name is Heather Ross, and I'm a medi-witch here at St Mungo's," said a calm, collected voice.

Harry turned and looked at where the voice was coming from. A witch, several years older than him, sat slumped in a chair.

Heather grimaced. "Yes, I know I must look a mess, but you gave us all quite a fright. It's been a rough two days for all of us..." and with that, she nodded to the space underneath his bed. "He hasn't left your side since he brought you in. It's very rare to see such devotion in a house elf..."

Harry looked under the bed and saw Dobby curled up, tightly clutching one of Harry's shoes. Every now and then, Dobby would murmur "must save Harry Potter sir... must save..."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Why what?" Heather answered.

"Why'd he save me? Why'd you save me?" Harry slumped back into his pillow and closed his eyes. "I'm tired. I don't want to live anymore, if this is what you call living..."

"How dare you? How dare you make so little of the sacrifices that your parents made for you? They gave their lives for you, so you could try to make something of yours, but instead, you're trying to throw it away. And poor Dobby, he truly cares for you. And Ms Lovegood. She's been calling almost every hour, wanting to get an update..."

Harry sat through her verbal tirade, visibly flinching every now and then.

"I'm sorry, I was a bit out of line," said Heather softly. She rose to leave the room.

A soft voice called after her, "No, Ms Ross, I'm the one who should apologize. I'm truly sorry, and please tell Luna that I'm alright."

Heather nodded and smiled at the figure laying on the bed. "I'll check back in an hour. Get some rest." And with that, she gently shut the door behind her.

Harry laid in bed, staring at the ceiling tiles. Going over the conversation he just had with the medi-witch, he figured he had been out for two days. Two days gone. Yet the only ones that have shown any concern over him have been Dobby and Luna. He shrugged. _Best not dwell on that,_ he thought.

Luna.

The name was rather unusual, but it did fit her.

Luna.

She was the only one to make him feel some-what better at the end of the school year. He had looked for her on the train ride back, wanting to talk to her a little bit more, but Ron and Hermione had monopolized his time, incessantly asking if he was fine. He had wanted to get in contact with Luna, but other things kept getting in the way. And now it appeared that she was one of the few who truly cared about him. Setting his jaw, he resolved to contact her as soon as possible.

But first he had something very important to do. He laid on his stomach and reached underneath the bed, gently shaking Dobby awake. "Dobby," he softly said, "thank you for saving my life..."

Dobby slowly opened up his eyes, when the realization of who was waking him up hit him. "Harry Potter sir!" He quickly rolled from beneath the bed, and grabbed a hold of one of Harry's arm. "Please Harry Potter sir, don't do that again, please. Please don't hurt Harry Potter self." Tears began to flow from the over-emotional elf's face.

Harry sat there, stunned by this sudden out-pouring of true affection. He gathered Dobby into a hug and said, "I promise, I won't do it again. Can I do anything for you, as way of thanks?" He smiled down onto the house elf.

Dobby nodded solemnly. "Dobby wishes to serve the House of Potter as a bonded elf."

Looking down onto Dobby, Harry asked, "Are you sure? I thought you were happy as a free elf in service to Hogwarts?"

Dobby again nodded solemnly. "Dobby is sure. But being in the service of Harry Potter sir would make Dobby happier."

"Then what do I have to do to take you into my service?"

Kneeling on one knee if front of Harry, Dobby said, "Dobby, free elf, promises that Dobby will be faithful to the House of Potter, never to cause the House of Potter harm and will observe Dobby's homage to the House of Potter completely against all persons, in good faith and without deceit." He looked in complete adoration up at Harry. After several long seconds of silence, Dobby quietly whispered, "Now, Harry Potter sir only has to say that Harry Potter sir accepts."

Nodding solemnly, Harry quietly said, "I, Harry of the House of Potter, accepts Dobby as a bonded elf." He looked around, waiting expectantly for some big showy effect. "Is that all?"

"Yes, that is all Harry Potter Lord. This is Olde and Deepe Magick. Now does Harry Potter Lord need anything?"

Harry filed the part about Olde and Deepe Magick away, leaving it for when he had the proper time to research it further. "Yes, Dobby, tell me how you found out about me trying to..."

"Winky told Dobby to check up on Harry Potter Lord. Winky said that something bad was happening."

"How did Winky know?"

"Luna Lovegood m'am told her." Dobby nodded.

"And how did Luna know," Harry quietly asked, his thoughts tumbling in his mind.

"Sometimes Luna Lovegood m'am just knows thing. House elves have always trusted the Lovegoods, though no house elves are bonded to the Lovegoods."

Smiling, Harry said, "Well then, there is something you can do for me Dobby." At that, Dobby eyes lit up. "Go tell Luna that I am ok, and give her my thanks." With that, Dobby popped out, leaving Harry to contemplate thoughts of a blonde with silvery grey eyes.

O o O

Yaxley walked purposefully into the ball room, his eyes registering all of the occupants.. He walked over to the witch he was looking for, and with a nod of his head, he motioned her over to a corner. Once they were both away from prying ears, he softly whispered, "Is it done?"

A shake of the head, and then the witch hissed, "Soon, soon. The fall equinox is almost upon us." She narrowed her eyes at the blonde man, "and don't try to rush us. He knows how dangerous, and how rewarding, this ritual can be..."

Lady Cora Greengrass watched the man stalk away, his angry mood apparent on his face. She laughed quietly to herself how easily it was to read the man. No need of legimancy at all, not at all. A rustle at her back alerted her to a presence behind her. Turning, she saw her daughter standing there, quietly watching. "Yes?"

"What did that bore of a man want, mother?"

Lady Greengrass laughed softly and said, "Oh Daphne, do try to contain your contempt for those beneath you. We may require them one day, and it is much easier to control them when they find us agreeable. But enough with the lessons, is the coven ready?"

Daphne looked around the ball room before answering. "Yes," she said before a look of disgust crossed her face. "I brought in Millicent Bulstrode to bolster our number."

"Now dear, remember what I just said. It is so much easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar." Lady Greengrass looked over her daughter's shoulder and plastered a smile upon her face. "Ah Millicent, we were just talking about you. That dress is such a nice shade of green. It really does bring out your complexion."

With one last look of distaste at her mom, Daphne schooled her face and turned to face the approaching witch. "Yes, that is such a nice shade..."


End file.
